Chasing Stars

For the last year, TM and I have discussed the value of working up through the BCU star system. TM was uncertain at first. Then he figured if he could pass the 3 star evaluation and the 4 star evaluation in one year, it would be OK. Then he'd be in great position to go through the 5 star training the following year. At the very least the training would be a worthwhile experience.
I, on the other hand, dismissed the whole thing. The value of the training is limited by the fact that I wouldn't be allowed to use my paddle of choice. I'd heard the BCU training is exclusively for Euro blades and I'm a stick monkey. I was not about to give up my stick for a patch and a pat on the back.
So, TM took the 3 star training and evaluation. TM has 10-plus years experience in a kayak and is as strong a paddler as any of the 4 star paddlers I see on a regular basis. He failed the evaluation because he didn't look perfect performing maneuvers in flat water. He also reported that the skills taught at the course were pretty basic. It was a pretty disheartening experience.
TM's experience only reinforced my feelings that chasing stars is a fool's errand.
I enjoy and value getting instruction from people who are more skilled and experienced than I. I soak up their advice, their instruction, their hints, and their adjustments. Then I go off and make the technique fit my personal conditions - the reality of my kayak, my paddle, my body.
I also value simply paddling a lot: in big groups, in small groups, in all sorts of conditions. One of the joys of kayaking is that every paddle is a learning experience. Each time out I refine my boat control skills a little more. I learn something new about functioning in a group. I learn a little more about reading conditions. I learn a little bit more about managing risk. I learn a little bit more about how mistaken paddlers who believe in a "bomb-proof" roll and being completely self-sufficient are about reality.
I wonder how much I'd learn from the classes that prep for an evaluation. My SAT and GRE test courses taught me little more than how to take the test. I also wonder what passing the evaluation really signifies. I got great SAT and GRE scores, but was a lousy college student. I got great test scores in most of my engineering classes, but was a lousy engineer. It took a lot of time, effort, and experience before the skills I demonstrated with high test scores became useful in the real world.
I guess for me it is not worth the time or money to work at passing a couple of tests. I'd rather spend my time and effort paddling, learning, and growing. I'd rather spend my money getting instruction geared towards building skills and not towards passing a test.
I also cannot see myself caring too much about the number of stars on a paddler's PFD. Good paddlers are easy to spot with or without stars.

Group Management

It's the time of year when instead of paddling constantly, I think about paddling constantly. The topic on my mind lately is group management. There are a few reasons for this. One is that winter paddling always makes me more cautious about paddling conditions. The group I'm paddling with are part of the conditions. One other is that there have been a few incidents recently where paddlers got into trouble.
One is documented here and here. We didn't make good decisions about conditions and the ability of the people in our group. Our communication broke down at critical points. A paddler was also left to return to the put-in by himself because the members of his group did not stick together. We ended up with a paddler in the water and performing a long distance tow in windy conditions. Once the incident happened and the group slipped into crisis management mode things went smoothly and it ended up fine.
Another incident happened a week later (I was not a participant and only report based on what people who did participate reported.) A group of paddlers paddled into an exposed part of the Bay on a windy and cold day. One of the paddlers decided to paddle knowing that he was pushing the limits of his skills. He believed that two experienced members of the group, who had paddled with him previously, were familiar with his skills. As the group progressed into more exposed conditions, the new paddler grew increasingly uneasy, but did not speak up. The group decided to make an exposed crossing in an area that is known to get rough and the group drifted apart. At one point the the newer paddler ceased being able to control his kayak and eventually ended up in the water.
In both cases the management of the group fell short. Experienced paddlers made decisions based on their own skill levels and desires. Less skilled paddlers didn't judge their skills appropriately. The participants didn't consider the group as a whole.
Paddling is a recreational activity for most of us and we'd rather not have to herd cats. RIC/KA, as a matter of policy, eschews placing a trip coordinator in a position of responsibility. How can a group be managed if nobody is in charge?
One thing that makes managing a group easier is paddlers making sound judgements about what paddles are appropriate for them. Paul has a great post about self assessment here.
Another thing that makes managing a group easier is all members of the group being considerate of the other members of the group. They show up on time. They stay with the group. They don't take undue risks. They speak up when they are uncomfortable. They help out if another paddler seems distressed. They don't push the group into conditions that are beyond the weakest member of the group. They accept group decisions. etc.
However, there are times in almost every paddle where someone needs to be in charge and make decisions. Sometimes the decision may be unpopular, but needs to be made. Someone needs to reign in the experienced paddlers if they are pushing the group beyond its level. Someone needs to alter the paddle plan if it becomes clear that conditions are changing or a paddler is beginning to be distressed. Someone may even have to tell a paddler that they should stay on the beach.
Groups are tricky things and I know that I'm not a great group manager. I'm much more comfortable lending a trip coordinator a hand in keeping a trip running smoothly. I suppose that is why when thinking about paddling in tough conditions, I don't think about open trips. I think of paddling with a close knit group of people I know and trust. I think of paddling with a self-herding group of cats.
Managing a group may be tough work, but if you choose to paddle in a group it must be done - particularly in rough conditions. Doing a rescue puts everyone at risk and can ruin an otherwise great day on the water. Hurt feelings are easy to repair - bodies are much harder.

The November Paddle

Once the cold water paddling season starts, I recalibrate my expectations for paddling. Instead of trying to get out once a week, I live with once a month. Instead of looking to push the envelope, I stay inside the safety box. It is nice to just get on the water and stretch the paddling muscles.
Today's paddle was nearly perfect as a winter paddle. PB posted a show and go out of Third Beach. Since I hadn't managed to get on the water all month and I wasn't sure about the group going out on Sunday, I was definitely going to make this paddle.
I had trouble getting out of the driveway in the morning and was late getting to the beach, but everyone was very laid back about getting on the water. It was cold and sunny. Eventually, we (PB, BH, CR, CMC, CC, TM, and myself) got on the water and headed towards Second Beach.
TM was a new paddler to the group, so I made a point to talk to him. New paddlers can be a bit unnerving on cold water paddles because the safety margins are slimmer. The conditions were mild and TM was up to the challenge.
We noodled around the point and landed on the beach for lunch. After a sunny lunch, we launched and headed back to the put-in. TM had to get to work, so it was a short paddle.
On the way back, CR and BH stopped to pick up a huge ball of fishing line. The line was stranded on one of the rocks along the coast.
Back at the put-in, PB and I took our turns at rolling. PB's looked effortless. Mine felt rusty, but I came up without worry. The water, a balmy 50 degrees, chilled my noggin.
I look forward to a equally pleasant Dec. paddle.

Giving Thanks

Yesterday's American holiday is the day to think about the things for which we are thankful. (I firmly believe, and try to act on the belief, that you should be thankful every day.)
I've got a lot to be thankful this year: the beginning of a great marriage to a great woman, a new house top, a wonderful Alaskan adventure, a new iPhone, several great parties, seeing some of my friends have solid relationships, reconnecting with an old friend, a job that I don't hate, etc.
I'm also thankful that most of the people I know also have a lot of reasons to be thankful. Let's face it any one blessed enough to enjoy kayaking has a lot of reasons to be thankful: having enough disposable income to own (and maintain) the kit needed to kayak, a living space large enough to accommodate a kayak, decent health, plenty of leisure time, the company of good people, experiencing nature, good weather, etc. Plenty of people are not so lucky. They struggle to make ends meet. They cannot find the time to smell the roses. They have some infirmity. They cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. They face the constant threat of violence.
Our lives may not be all that we would wish. However, our balance sheets are in the black. I know mine is and I thank the universe for my good fortune.

The Winter Cometh

It is getting colder, days are growing shorter, and the water chills the bones. Winter looms. Kayaking days are scarce and therefore more precious.
Ironically, the volume of non-kayaking obligations grow also. The leaves need to be racked and bagged. The grass needs to be mowed. The gutters need to be cleaned. Friends and family schedule holiday gatherings. Work picks up in preparation for the holiday lull.
The kayaks have been sitting unused in the garage for weeks and I'm beginning to sense the gathering clouds of winter gloom. How to preempt the gathering darkness?
I still plan on kayaking at least once a month. I'm also planning to do some snowshoeing and some projects around the house. My plan also includes regular visits to the gym. I've got no faith in my actually getting to the gym. Toiling away on a spinning wheel in a neon lit dungeon is not spiritually satisfying. My body feels better, the malaise eases a bit, but the spirit doesn't feel better.
It is the energy of nature and friends that nourishes the spirit. Fortunately, the season offers plenty of opportunities for seeing friends and family. I plan on making the most of them (as well as the kayaking).